


This Superb Work of Man, Full of Stars

by Emi_theSassiestSousa



Series: Learning Enochian [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cas's rib wardings are very not platonic, Castiel teaches Dean Enochian, Dean learns Enochian, Dean swears like the sailor he was meant to be, Enochian is Dramatic, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, M/M, Porn With Plot, Smut, Smut and Feels, This is probably the easiest I'm ever going to write this conversation going, This was supposed to be crack, Yes homo, all you need to know is that Dean is comfortable with his sexuality, canon adjacent, it aint crack, sammy knows, who knows when this happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 05:35:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14013294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emi_theSassiestSousa/pseuds/Emi_theSassiestSousa
Summary: Dean suddenly wants to learn Enochian, and Cas is thrilled. But Cas doesn't realize Dean is translating the wardings on his ribs. When he finishes,  Dean has some... follow-up questions.





	This Superb Work of Man, Full of Stars

**Author's Note:**

> You probably noticed from the word count alone, but just so you're in the right mindset, this isn't written in the same cracky style as the first piece. I'm starting to think I just can't write direct Destiel crack, it always comes out sweet. :)
> 
> The other thing you'll notice is that I fleshed out the translation that I relied on in the last piece. We don't get to see everything in the peek of the warding we get on screen, so in this story Castiel fills in the blank spaces and translates more of the "intended" meaning for us.  
> I also found the original translation post while hunting down clues:  
> http://silvermoonphantom.tumblr.com/post/48343981273/for-translation-im-using-the-enochian
> 
> Thank you to everyone who requested a sequel, I hope you enjoy this as much as the last one, I sure enjoyed writing it!
> 
> Beta'd by the lovely @arboreyes

“Hey, Cas?” Dean asked as he entered the library, his hands in his pockets and a shrug on his shoulders.

Cas, seated at the end of a long table, looked up from his phone. “Yes, Dean?”

“Would you, ah... help me with somethin'?”

“Of course."

Dean smiled. “Great. I’d, ah, I think I'd like to learn more Enochian.”

Cas lit up, sitting straighter in his chair. "Really?"

Dean ducked his head at Cas’s enthusiasm. “Yeah, I mean, I know how to draw all these sigils that we use, but I don’t know what most of 'em actually _mean,_ so...”

When Cas picked up that Dean wouldn't continue, he asked, “Did you want to start now?”

“Well, um— Yeah, sure, if you’re not busy.”

Cas’s phone skittered across the table as he set it down too fast, practically leaping from his chair to gather books from the shelves.

 

~*~*~

 

“Hey, Cas?” Dean asked as he entered the library, a pad of paper in his hands and a scrutinizing look on his brow.

Cas, nestled in one of the armchairs, looked up from his book. “Yes, Dean?”

"You got a sec?"

"Of course."

“Great," Dean said with a smile. He squinted at his notes, "What does... ‘oecrimi’ mean?”

“That depends on the context.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “It _always_ depends on the context. Geez, this language is so friggin’ dramatic.”

Cas waited for Dean to continue.

“The line I’m workin' on says ‘limlal oecrimi o,’ with a bunch of stuff about God around it.”

“‘To sing many praises of His treasures.’”

“ _Mm._ ” Dean frowned at the paper. “Okay then. Thanks.” He turned and left.

Cas returned to his book, searching for where he left off.

He froze, his eyes widened in realization and he jerked up, “Wait, Dean!”

But he was already gone.

 

~*~*~

 

“Hey, Cas?” Dean asked quietly as he knocked on Cas’s doorframe.

Cas, sat against the headboard of his bed, looked up from another book, his eyes wide and unblinking, the muscles in his neck pulled taught, and the color drained from his face. "...Yes, Dean?"

“Could I, um," Dean ran a thumb over the smooth wood, "could I ask you something?”

Cas swallowed. “Of course.”

Dean entered Cas’s room, closing the door behind him. He noticed that Cas's coat and jacket were carelessly tossed aside on the floor, maybe even thrown.

“Well, um... Remember back after the Apocalypse, when you carved that anti-angel warding onto our ribs?”

"Yes." Cas said. He still hadn't blinked. 

Dean squirmed, dropping his eyes to the floor. “Good. Yeah, um... Did you, ah— Did you carve the same thing into both of us, Sam and me?”

Cas paused. “No.”

“Okay,” Dean rubbed the back of his neck, “cool, um... You know, I actually had an x-ray done after you did that. Just to see what you’d done to us.”

“I—” Cas nodded, finally closing his eyes. “I know.”

“Oh. Good. Great.” Dean sputtered, looking anywhere but at Cas. “Listen, so— I took a look at it, you know, to practice and stuff, and, ah, I guess I’m just wondering... Well, I'm wondering... Did you mean for my warding to come off so... possessive?”

They met each other’s gaze. 

Cas took a breath, held it, and said, “...No?”

A laugh leapt from Dean, and he finally cracked a smile. "You’re a shit liar, Cas.”

“That’s not true—” 

 _“Cas,”_ Dean cut him off with a half a smile.

He looked away from Dean, down to his hands in his lap. “I may have... emphasized my intent to protect you when I carved the wardings.”

It was Dean’s turn to pause, trying to decide how to respond. Unable to come up with something to say, he simply chose not to, and instead crossed over to Cas’s bed, coming to sit on the edge of the mattress by Cas’s knees.

Cas’s eyes had grown so wide Dean thought they might pop right out.

Dean looked down at himself, at his legs, at his chest. It was barely more than a whisper, rumbling low, when he asked, “Did you really rebuild me when you pulled me out of Hell?”

Cas gave a tiny nod. “I did.”

Dean held up one of his hands and examined it, flexing it.

He turned to Cas suddenly, an evil grin on his face, “So I’m 'Full of Stars', huh?”

“In your eyes,” Cas blurted out, apparently caught off guard by Dean’s shift in demeanor.

Heat crept up Dean’s neck. “Oh, um…”

Cas reached out towards him, “I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“No, it’s…” Dean smiled, “it’s okay.”

Cas pulled his hand back a little. “It’s okay?”

“Yeah,” Dean took Cas’s outstretched hand in his and Cas tensed with the touch. Dean ran his thumb over his knuckles, trying to soothe that tension away.

Dean smiled. “You sure were—” he started, but he glanced up at Cas and the question on his lips vanished. Cas’s eyes were just so wide, and at this distance just so strikingly blue, even in the dim light of the bedside lamp. His lips were parted over shaky breaths and his eyes darted back and forth between Dean’s, still desperately seeking Dean’s reactions. Hope and abject terror were painted clear across his face— he was just so damn earnest and so obviously scared out of his head right now.

With that look it hit him that Cas had never thought Dean would know exactly what was written on his ribs. Cas had been holding onto this secret for years, he had been waiting for Dean to pull his head out of his ass for _years_.

Dean had held himself back all this time for _nothing_.

It was all Dean could do to hold back one moment longer to ask, “Cas... could I kiss you?”

Beautiful relief poured over Cas, “Yes, please, yes.”

In one motion Dean pulled Cas’s hand behind him and shot to his knees on the bed, using his other hand to take Cas’s jaw and pulled them together. They met in a crash, and their kiss was fiery, sloppy, filled with the desperation of years spent an arm’s length apart.

A whining hum began to build Dean’s ears, but honestly, he didn’t even notice it...

Until every light bulb in the room shattered with a rain of sparks. They jerked apart in surprise.

 _“Ha!”_ Dean barked, looking around at where the lights had been. When he looked back at Cas, Dean’s smile lit the room by itself. “Fuckin’ show-off!”

“I wasn’t showing—” Cas started, but Dean cut him off with another kiss.

Without breaking apart, Dean shifted, throwing his leg over Cas’s, straddling his lap.

Dean tested Cas’s lips with his tongue and was rewarded with an airy moan from the back of Cas’s throat. The sound lit fires in him and he pushed on, pulling Cas closer, deepening the kiss. But Cas opened his mouth too wide, pushed back too hard, and Dean chuckled.

“What?” Cas asked against his lips.

“Nothing. You.” Dean pulled back to smile down at Cas. His eyes were still so bright, and he looked just so fucking happy…

Regret eclipsed Dean’s face. He sighed and leaned against Cas’s forehead, squeezing his eyes shut. “God, Cas, since the Apocalypse?”

Cas took a deep breath. “I didn’t think you… I didn’t think you’d want me.”

Tears burned behind Dean’s eyes. “I did, damn Cas, I _did,”_  his voice shook. _“Goddamn._ We could have— I should have—”

Cas put a hand on his shoulder and gently pushed him back so they could see each other again.

“Dean…”

Just one word, but of course Dean heard everything behind it. _This isn’t your fault. This is my fault, too. Please, don’t think about that now, we’re here, we made it here and we have each other now, right now._

Dean’s heart took off and a wave of joyous _want_ crashed over him. He took the back of Cas’s head in one hand and his waist in the other and pulled Cas flush to him. Cas's hands shot up to fist into the back of his shirt, and Dean dropped his head to Cas’s neck and _bit_ right where it met his shoulder.

Cas moaned, loudly, gutterally, and keened _“Dean!”_

The sound went straight to his groin, and he groaned into the crook of Cas’s neck and bit again, a little lower, a little harder.

Dean _felt_ the moment that Cas realized this was real, that Dean was _on_ him and _holding_ him, and _wanting_ him. That he had Dean and was allowed to hold him, too, allowed to touch, to explore. Suddenly Cas’s hands were everywhere, up his back, down his chest, through his hair, finding all the places he remembered but hadn’t been able to touch for so long, hadn’t touched since he'd reassembled them himself. Cas pulled his heels back, raising his legs, and rolled himself greedily into Dean.

“Cas!” Dean gasped.

And Dean knew, with that one motion Dean knew, he was no longer in control of this train. As of now, he was a passenger along for the ride of his life and, oh god, that was hot as fuck.

He felt Cas rucking up his t-shirt, evidently furious at the layers impeding him. Dean shucked off his flannel and Cas immediately pulled his t-shirt off.

Cas’s hands continued their pilgrimage, his palms pushing insistently over Dean's ribs, no doubt tracing that warding.

"Cas—" Suddenly Dean needed to know. “Cas, tell me—” He cut off with another gasp as Cas’s thumb found his nipple.

“Tell you _what,_  Dean?”

Cas’s voice _—_  impossibly lower now— made it much harder to think, _much_ harder to form coherent thoughts.

“Tell me _—_  tell me what it says _—"_

“You already know,” Cas said, busy kissing every inch of Dean he could reach.

“Cas— Cas, c'mon, I’m a shit, _nnh,_  translator. Tell me what it says— tell me what you wanted it to say… _Ahhr!"_  

Cas’s _tongue_ had now found his nipple. Dean jerked from it but Cas held him steady in his arms.

“Cas— _Fuck_ _—_ Cas—!”

Having found a reliable source, Cas mashed that moan button with righteous vigor, and Dean could only squirm and gasp in his unfailing hold, burying his fists in Cas’s shirt.

“Cas, _please."_

Dean immediately felt the effect of his begging. Cas’s actions slowed, the edge of desperation melting away. Dean realized then that Cas would probably never deny what he begged for, not for long anyway, and, damn, that was somehow even hotter.

From where he still knelt, straddling Cas's lap, Cas gently pulled Dean down for a kiss, sweet and lovely. His hand lingered on Dean’s cheek, a small smile playing at one side of his face, and his eyes positively sparkled. As he began to recite, his voice fell low and smooth, caressing Dean just as softly as his hands.

 _"This beautiful face and body, I have begun anew_ ,”

Cas kissed Dean’s cheek, his jaw, under his ear...

 _"T_ _his form, I, the Angel of Fire, have recreated in His glory_ ,”

As his lips wandered, his hands traced his ribs, right to left, following the carvings.

 _"So that in His glory he may live_ _—_ ” his kisses found his collarbone, “ _this superb,_” a nip there, “ _work of Man,_ _Full of Stars,_ ” He looked up into Dean’s eyes, and Dean absolutely _did not_ blush. “ _I sing the many praises of His precious treasure_.”

As his fingers traced the next rib, his tone darkened, and Dean’s heart began to pound. 

 _“Thou dreadful assailant, if you should dare harm him,_ ” he kissed Dean’s chest, “ _I shall surely smite thee,_ ”

His kisses trailed down his sternum. His hands slid down his sides.

_“Foul Beast! Be warned, by the wondrous Angel, keeper of Fire as unto Him,”_

One hand slid to Dean’s hip, the other dropped to his thigh, and he twitched reflexively under Cas's touch.

 _“Your Death will be painful, you will face your creator, The Rotten,”_ His hand slid up Dean’s thigh, his thumb coming to rest in the crease of his hip.

Dean moved then to kiss Cas, but Cas wasn’t finished.

 _“For this resplendent man,”_ Cas gripped his ass and his thigh. Dean grunted and his breath hitched.  _“by His will,”_ He surged up, twisted, and pinned Dean to the mattress. Dean’s eyes snapped wide, struck breathless. _“is protected,”_  He kissed across Dean’s chest. _“unto my last essence,"_  He kissed over Dean's heart and rolled his hips. Dean groaned from it, relishing the line of heat he felt. _“thus unto,”_ He rolled again and roughly gripped Dean’s left bicep.  _“ forevermore.”_

They crashed together again, all hands and lips shallow breaths. As Cas relentlessly rutted into him, Dean worked at the buttons of Cas’s shirt. But Cas refused to release his hold on Dean, so the shirt hung, pushed just off his shoulders. Dean finally ran his hands over Cas’s chest, and _god_ it was so much better than he’d ever imagined. He wrapped his arms around Cas’s waist and pulled him closer, raising his knees to dig in and return the friction.

Cas pulled back, and the same grudge he had against Dean’s shirts was now released on his accursed pants. He worked furiously to undo his belt, the button, the zipper— Dean gripped at the sheets, letting Cas take what he wanted, and Cas wrenched both Dean’s pants and boxers off, tossing them somewhere. He returned to kiss Dean— passionate, rough, sloppy— and took his cock in his fist. But his grip was too tight, and he pulled too hard.

 _“Argh_ , Cas, wait—” Dean put one hand over Cas’s. He pulled Cas back for a kiss with the other, assuring him he still wanted more.

Dean guided Cas over him and they worked into a rhythm. Cas’s thumb caught on the head, and Dean groaned, Cas did it again, swiping through the precome leaking from the tip, and swallowed the moan that escaped Dean.

In a rush of desire Dean released Cas’s hand and set to work on his pants. The suit pants had a weird clasp and Dean almost ripped them in frustration— Well actually, Cas would just fix them later, right? He tore them open and shoved them down. Cas still refused to leave Deans body, so they only made it so far as the swell of his ass.

He palmed over Cas and everything he had ever fantasized went out the window, the reality was just so much better. How could he have waited so long to—?

Cas jerked him from that spiral of thought, suddenly taking Dean’s wrists and pinning them above his head. Dean’s eyes flew wide and his heart raced. This was so much— And this was so much better—

Cas rolled into him again, kissing Dean breathless. Dean pulled against Cas’s hold but his grip was fast. Cas pushed him deeper into the mattress, and then, as though he remembered something, Cas shoved Dean’s face to the side with his own and bit down onto his exposed neck. Dean’s back arched, he screamed in pleasure, and Cas did it again, lower, harder, and heat flooded to Dean’s groin. He rolled his whole body into Cas, moaning, gasping, and Cas bit and sucked, surely leaving awful purple splotches from ear to shoulder.

“Cas, fuck, I’m—” Dean struggled to speak. “I’m—”

“You’re what, Dean?” Cas pushed himself up to see his face, looking down at him with those fucking eyes shining so bright—

That was it, Dean fell over the edge. He came with a deep, ragged groan; his back bowed, his face buried into Cas’s shoulder.

“Dean—” Cas’s voice caught in his throat. Just a moment longer and Dean felt him release. He shuddered against him, pressing his cheek into Dean’s, his stubble leaving behind a wonderful burn.

Slowly, he stilled, his muscles released, and he melted onto Dean.

Dean slid his sore wrists from Cas’s loosened grip and wrapped his arms around him, slipping under the shirt that had never come off, trying to hold him impossibly closer as his head spun and his heart soared. One hand moved up to the back of his head and threaded through his hair, and Dean found it wasn't spiky in the least, but instead soft with the slightest curl.

There was a tiny wetness on Dean’s jaw.

“Hey, hey...” Dean murmured, “I’ve got you,” he hugged him tighter, “I’ve got you, Cas.”

Cas’s arms slid behind his neck and around his head and Cas hugged him back, pushing his face into the crook of Dean’s neck.

They stayed like that a while, holding each other as they came down from the high together.

When Dean felt a smile against his neck, he released a huff of a breath and chuckled.

“Damn, that was _so_ much better than my translation.”

Cas laughed into his shoulder and Dean’s heart flew again at the sound. He held him even tighter, wanting to hold onto that feeling forever.

Unfortunately, the motion reminded him of the mess between them. Reluctantly, Dean gently pushed on Cas’s shoulder to ask him to roll off. He reached over the side of the bed, found his t-shirt, and cleaned them both off. He no sooner dropped the shirt to the floor than Cas was back on him. They kissed a while longer, holding each other tight, just enjoying the joy of sharing their warmth.

“That last line wasn’t on the x-ray,” Dean said, “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Well, witnessing your reaction,” Cas smiled, wide and gummy, “I’m glad you didn’t.” He looked away from Dean. “You weren’t supposed to see it at all, actually. I don’t know how you found it, I burned that x-ray once I learned it existed.”

Dean smirked. “Sam made a copy. A few copies, actually. He up and handed me one the other day and told me I should take a look at it.”

Cas laughed again at how the pieces were falling into place, “So did you ever intend to learn how to read sigils or was that just a ploy?”

“Eh, you know, a little of Column A, a little of Column B.”

Cas smiled.

Dean smiled back, and how could he not? Cas was just _radiating_ happiness...

The dam holding his regret cracked and leaked. His eyes dropped shut and he sighed. “How didn’t I see it sooner?”

“I don’t know where you were keeping the x-ray before—”

“No, Cas, _you_ , how didn’t I see this sooner? I thought— ” Dean took a shaky breath, “The hell _was_ I thinking?”

“I assume the same thing I did,” Cas answered with a shrug.

“It’s so fucking _stupid_ now,” Dean’s voice was edged with anger, “God, everything makes sense, keeping me out of all the Angel Wars, fucking Purgatory…”

Cas jerked back with his own realization. “Am I the reason Amara couldn’t bind you?”

“Oh my god, I’m a fuckin’ idiot, Cas.”

 _“We’re_ ‘fucking idiots’,” Cas corrected with a little kiss.

They held each other close and let the regret wash over them at last. It was soothed, with touches and kisses, until it was exhausted and they were left with nothing but relief. Relief that they were finally here. Relief that they wouldn’t have to hide and wonder anymore.

Cas settled with his head on Dean’s arm. Dean ran one hand back and forth across Cas’s back under his shirt, and held Cas’s hand over his chest in the other. Cas looked at him with a smile that had Dean’s heart fluttering all over again, and he wondered if he would ever get used to the unabashed joy in that smile.

Dean cracked a grin. “So, the Angel of Fire, huh?”

“I’m _an_ angel of fire. Someday you will remember that I am a warrior of God.”

Someday Dean would show him he'd never forgotten. But for now, “No, no, you definitely said _the_ Angel of Fire,” he teased.

“Translation between English and Enochian is very difficult, Dean—” 

“Hey, hey,” Dean knocked their foreheads together, “I’m kidding, just yankin’ your chain.”

Cas squinted in confusion. He shook his head a little, “I don’t have a chain.”

Dean smiled wide and couldn’t help but laugh. “Man, Cas, don’t ever change.”

Cas grinned, staring into his eyes and he stared back, understanding now what Cas had meant about Stars.

Dean ran a hand over his cheek and kissed him again.

“You know, your eyes ain’t half bad either.”

Cas smiled and looked away, and Dean thought he saw the beginnings of a blush before Cas snuggled into his chest.

Dean was surprised his heart didn’t just burst, he was happier than he’d ever been.

He felt a wide smile bloom against his skin. “Thank you, Dean.”

And evidently, so was Cas.

 

~*~*~

 

Bonus Scene:

Sam sat in the library with a book in his lap.

A whining hum slowly rose in his ears.

His hand reflexively went for his gun, not sure if they were under attack or if the probably-magical electric system was finally giving out. Just when the sound was becoming too much, every lightbulb in the place exploded with a shower of sparks. Sam drew his weapon and leapt from his seat, whirling around, making sure nothing was readying to attack him in the dark.

Moving methodically, he swept the library, the kitchen, and the map room for threats. Satisfied that the common areas were secure, he hurried to the bedrooms to find Dean and Cas. He reached Cas’s room first and was about to knock when he heard—

A moan, and,  _“Dean!”_

Oh.

Heat crept up Sam’s face. He stowed his weapon and hurried right back to the library.

“Took you assholes long enough.”

 

\-----

 

Bonus Bonus Scene:

“Little bro, your grammar is all over the place,” Gabriel scoffed.

“Give that back, Gabriel!” Castiel tried to snatch the x-ray from Gabriel’s hands.

With a snap of Gabe’s fingers, Castiel was rooted to the spot. Gabriel casually strolled a few feet away and continued to read.

“And what is up with your syntax? ‘qaa q t qting?' ‘You will face your creator, or, also, The Rotten’? _Tsk._ ”

“I was in a hurry!” Castiel protested, flustered. “It was... a typo.”

“A typo. On your definitely-dude-bro-not-lover’s ribs? Smooth, Cassy. And who the heck is ‘The Rotten’? You know Dad made everything, right?” Gabriel gasped. “Were you throwing shade at Dad? You were _pret-_ ty pissed off at him then.” Gabriel spun on Cas before he could answer, “Oh my Dad, is this your angsty teenage poetry?”

“Gabriel, _please_ _—_ ”

**Author's Note:**

> My plenty-of-artistic-license-taken full rib translation:
> 
> This beautiful face and body, I have begun anew,  
> This form, I, the Angel of Fire, have recreated in His glory,  
> So that in His glory he may live— this superb work of Man,  
> Full of Stars, I sing the many praises of His precious treasure.  
> Thou dreadful assailant, if you should dare harm him, I shall surely smite thee,  
> Foul Beast! Be warned, by the wondrous Angel, keeper of Fire as unto Him,  
> Your Death will be painful, you will face your creator, (or also,) The Rotten,  
> For this resplendent man, by His Will, is protected unto my last essence, thus unto forevermore.
> 
> \------
> 
> Gabriel's syntax joke comes from the original translation post. There appears to be extra letters, as if Cas made a typo. :)


End file.
